


somewhere, waiting for me

by buckydarling



Series: if i could fly like birds on high [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee Shops, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, HERES THE SEQUEL I PROMISED YOU, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roommates, holy shit im bad at this, new chapter coming...sometime, sequel to my lover stands on golden sand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:06:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9864149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckydarling/pseuds/buckydarling
Summary: “Excuse me?”Laf snapped out of his thoughts and looked up from the sandwich he’d been making a halfhearted attempt at eating when an unfamiliar voice spoke. He looked up, and standing by his table was a tall, well-built man wearing a backpack and clutching a sandwich in both hands. The man smiled.“Sorry for interrupting. My name’s Hercules, and I just moved here, and I was,” he scratched the back of his neck, “wondering if I could sit down? If you wouldn’t mind. I like eating with company.”Or: Herc and Laf are both dealing with loneliness when a small town in Maine gives them both exactly what they were looking for, even if it wasn't what they expected.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was NOT expecting the gigantic response I got from my lover stands - here is the sequel that got requested time and time again in the comments! I thank you all for your amazing feedback and positivity - it really helps a budding writer like myself in terms of self-confidence.
> 
> This is a bit of a sequel/prequel, because I really wanted to go more in depth on how Herc and Laf met and fell in looooove! (Don't worry - I'm already planning a REAL sequel, too, so we'll see Alex and John again. Eventually.)
> 
> SOOOOOO Idon'treallyknowhowwegondothissoherewego.
> 
> (As always, for Carol.)

Hercules Mulligan was strong.

 

_ Look at how big he is,  _ he pretended not to hear people whisper as he walked by. And he knew how he looked. Stocky build, big arms, tall and imposing.  _ That guy could do it with one arm tied behind his back.  _ Herc knew how he was supposed to be, how the rest of the world wanted to see him. Stoic. Unflinching. A jutting rock in the middle of a stormy sea, unmoving.

 

He didn’t let them know how conflicted he was inside, how much he longed for his mother’s embrace, his father’s reassuring hand; how he preferred diplomacy to bruised knuckles. How he used to be scared of fights. How the kids taunted him becuase  _ kids who’re big like you don’t cry.  _ How he trained himself to be quiet and stoic, to appear hardened and unaffected on the outside to hide the feelings within. 

 

You had to be that way, he supposed, in a city like New York. There was only so much room for people with  _ feelings,  _ so he kept his stored away, in little filing cabinets, and he moved through life step by step, going through the motions. 

 

Hercules Mulligan was strong. So he stood at the funeral, ignoring the wrong weight of the wrong hand on his shoulder, and he faced the twin caskets and he didn’t cry.

 

* * *

 

Lafayette really, really missed having a social life.

 

There were a lot of things he hadn’t liked about New York. Everything moved really fast. The people were rude. There was gum all over the sidewalks, taxis never stopped for pedestrians, and tourists seemed to think it was okay to cross the street whenever they wanted, regardless of the traffic signal. The subways smelled like pee, and street corners were littered with advertisements for gentlemen’s clubs and scattered cigarette butts. But if there was one thing Lafayette missed about New York City, it was the fact that there was always something to do.

 

He thought about this somewhat nostalgically as he sat on his couch, wishing he had something more interesting to do than queue up Netflix or read a book for the third time that week. He missed his friends in France, but they’d all parted ways and made new lives for themselves. And making friends in a small town in Maine was pretty hard if you were a guy like Laf, with a mountain of poofy hair, a thick foreign accent, and altogether very outlandish and unfamiliar. He was  _ bored.  _ His job at the grocery store was monotonous and dull, and he only had it to have some extra savings while he used his inheritance as rent money. 

 

_ Maman et Papa  _ would have something intelligent to say, no doubt. His sister Adrienne would offer sharp advice and soft words over the phone. Even the stupid cat would be a comfort right now, despite how much it had hated him. Laf’s stomach clenched. He missed his family every day he grew farther from his parent’s deaths, his family’s grief, his sister’s reckless car crash. He’d come to America with a hole in his chest and an enormous inheritance he had no idea what to do with, and he’d tried to look for a new start. But after finding no solace in New York City and feeling lost and lonely in Maine, Laf was really, really stuck. He needed a friend. He needed  _ someone _ . 

 

Sighing in defeat, he turned off his computer and went to bed early.

 

* * *

 

Herc felt a little sorry for anyone passing the Mulligan’s Tailoring shop that morning, because there was probably an awful lot of yelling coming from inside. 

 

His uncle Thomas stalked the room, hands folded stiffly behind his back. “Let me see if I understand you clearly.” His eye’s locked with Herc’s. “You are leaving New York City, and this tailoring business, which your parents fostered for their entire lives.” Thomas turned sharply on one heel. “You are going to go away to a tiny town, in  _ Maine,  _ and,” he made air quotes, “‘start a new life’ by running away from your problems.” He stopped to face Hercules. “Do I have that correct?”

 

Herc wanted to melt into the floor, but he stood his ground, maintaining eye contact with Thomas.  _ Strong. Strong.  _ “You got it,” he nodded, suppressing a smirk. “I don’t wanna run this business. It’s never been my dream. I don’t like this city, and I wanna leave. My train leaves Grand Central tomorrow morning.”

 

His uncle Martin stepped away from the wall, narrowing his eyes. “Your parents worked hard for this business so they could leave it to you. Hugh and Sarah did not work so that you could  _ throw it all away--” _

 

“Hugh and Sarah didn’t plan on  _ dying in a car crash,”  _ Herc interrupted him, his voice booming in the small back room of the shop. “My parents cared about this business, yes, but what you don’t seem to understand is that they cared about me, too. Because, oh, yeah,” he shot his uncles a look, “ _ I’m their son.”  _ He folded his arms. “I am not throwing away this business. I am leaving it to you, as dictated in the will under the circumstances that I don’t assume ownership, and I am leaving for Maine tomorrow morning. You are not going to stop me.”

 

Martin walked up to him very slowly and pointed at his chest with one long finger. “You get on that train tomorrow, and you can consider yourself out of this family.” Herc steeled his insides and pushed his uncle’s finger aside, picking up his bag.

 

“This family stopped being mine when Hugh and Sarah died,” he said, and without looking back, Herc walked out of the shop, leaving his uncles behind forever.

 

* * *

Laf shuffled through the mail uninterestedly, flinging spam into a recycling bag and grocery coupons onto the kitchen counter, when a plain white envelope from the grocery store caught his eye, and a pit of dread sank into his stomach. He tore open the flap and unfolded the letter, printed on cheap paper.

 

_ Dear Mr. Lafayette, _

_ It is our deepest regret to inform you that because of cuts, we have had to remove you from your position as grocery clerk at our store. Your check will arrive in the mail shortly. We wish you luck in finding alternate employment. _

 

_ Maine Shore Groceries _

 

“ _ Merde,”  _ Laf cursed, crumpling the envelope and tossing it in the garbage can. He walked into the living room and slumped on the couch. He didn’t understand what was so upsetting to him. He wasn’t financially short by any means, and his inheritance could support him comfortably for probably the rest of his life. So what was it about losing an admittedly terrible job scanning people’s groceries that made him so upset?

 

Laf felt like he was too young to be having a midlife crisis, but here he was, twenty-one years old and sitting on his couch angry-crying because he’d lost his job, and he’d lost his family, and he was really, really fucking  _ lonely.  _

 

Sniffling still, he shoved his feet into sandals and went for a walk on the beach, letting the almost-June wind tousle the bun on top of his head. He looked out at the pale blue waves, sparkling under the sun, looking like the beaches in France he had used to frequent. Adrienne had loved the ocean. She would sprint down to the shoreline, back when they had the summers off after school and Laf would drive the two of them down in his car. He’d watch as long as he could stand to remain still as her curls waved in the ocean breeze before caving in and joining her in the surf, both of them returning home with the cuffs of their jeans rolled and damp and sand in between their toes and on the floor of the car. 

 

Adrienne had wanted him to be happy as much as she had desperately wanted to be happy herself after the deaths of their parents. For every day she had woken up sadder and smaller than the day before, Adrienne would come out of her room and greet him, hugging him tight before stroking his cheek.

 

“ _ N'oubliez pas d'être heureux, Laf, d'accord _ ?” She would say to him. Remember to be happy. “ _ Maman et papa l'auraient voulu _ .” Laf let the tears fall, remembering his younger sister and the life she did nothing to deserve, and then he straightened up and looked out at the ocean she had loved.

 

_ You are going to be happy,  _ he told himself.  _ For her. _

He left the beach with only footprints left behind and a strange sort of hope.

 

* * *

 

Herc knitted the whole train ride from New York City, watching as the northeastern countryside whizzed by outside the window. It was June first, and the sky was a crisp blue. Herc stared down at the yarn in his lap and wondered what lay ahead. He wasn’t too sure why he’d chosen Maine. He just knew that it was small, and up north, and even though it was close enough to New York, it felt pretty damn far enough to him.

 

Far was what Herc needed. Far meant he didn’t always have to be strong. 

 

Herc thought about the days after the funeral, and the ice he’d felt building up in his chest. How hard it had been, to  _ suffer,  _ under the crushing weight of his own human emotions.

 

In high school, Herc and his classmates had had to read a book called  _ The Things They Carried,  _ about the Vietnam War. It talked about the guns, and each soldier’s rations, and the bodies they had to carry, and the supplies, and the letters and the photographs; but the soldiers also had to carry the emotional weight of an entire war, and somehow, that had struck Herc more deeply than anything he read for the rest of the book. That the emotional weight of taking lives and saving your own and knowing that you didn’t care about what you fought for - that was heavier than any weapon the soldiers were given to fight with.

 

Herc thought about those soldiers, and he thought about his parents, and for the first time, in the almost-empty train car, staring at the passing coastline, he let himself cry.

 

The train pulled up into the station in early afternoon, and Herc went off with his bags in search of lunch - the landlord was meeting with him at three to confirm the apartment rental, and he had time to kill and an empty stomach. He wandered into a sandwich shop that overlooked the blue water and brought it outside, looking at the wide smattering of tables scattered here and there with visiting tourists and couples, and then spotted a man eating by himself, looking very sad.

 

He was tall, and good looking, with brown skin and a huge head of puffy black hair pulled into a ponytail. He sat at a corner table by himself, facing the ocean, his chin in one hand as he picked at a sandwich. Looking at his face, Herc could tell the man had been crying. He looked down at his own food, and back at the man. He looked like he lived here, but Herc had a hunch that he hadn’t lived here very long. And Herc suddenly decided that he didn’t really feel like eating alone.

 

_ Well, Herc,  _ he told himself,  _ no time like the present to start making new friends. _

 

He took a deep breath and walked over.

 

* * *

“Excuse me?”

 

Laf snapped out of his thoughts and looked up from the sandwich he’d been making a halfhearted attempt at eating when an unfamiliar voice spoke. He looked up, and standing by his table was a tall, well-built man wearing a backpack and clutching a sandwich in both hands. The man smiled. 

 

“Sorry for interrupting. My name’s Hercules, and I just moved here, and I was,” he scratched the back of his neck, “wondering if I could sit down? If you wouldn’t mind. I like eating with company.”

 

Laf paused a second too long, and the man added hurriedly, “If you wanna say no you can and I’ll stop bothering you I was just wondering if--”

 

“No, no, sit down!” Laf cut him off, waving a hand and giving a small smile. “Sorry for stopping. It’s just, um,” he cocked his head, “I wasn’t expecting it, is all.” He fingered a curl at the base of his neck. “No one has really been this friendly to me since I moved here.”

 

Herc smiled sympathetically and sat down across from Laf, framed by the ocean. “Guess we’re kind of in the same boat, then. Whole reason I left New York. Well,” he frowned, “part of it, anyway.”

 

Laf brightened. “I am also from New York!” he said. He paused. “Well, and before that, France.” Herc chuckled, and Laf added, “I figured you could tell, from the accent and my barely passable English.”

 

Herc let out a little  _ pshaw.  _ “Barely passable, my ass. You speak it just fine. Besides,” he smiled, “the accent suits you.” Laf blushed a little and actually managed to take a bite out of his sandwich. 

 

“Thank you,” he mumbled. Swallowing, he continued, “So, Hercules, when did you move to this tiny little town?”

 

Herc smiled. “Just got off the train thirty minutes ago. Trying to find an apartment. And please,” he gestured with his food, “call me Herc. Suits me better. Hercules is so formal.” 

 

Laf laughed. “Okay, Herc.” He tried it out. “So you came here without an apartment? What is your plan?” Herc grinned.

 

“I’ve got a bit saved up - I’m gonna open up a coffee shop in the empty storefront down the way.”

 

Laf brightened. “Ah, that is right next to my apartment building!” He put down his food. “We will be neighbors!” Herc smiled brightly. 

 

“Man, that’s awesome! We’ll be neighbors!” He paused and suddenly looked very guilty. “I, uh, I don’t think I ever asked you for your name.”

 

Laf laughed a little. “It is very long. My full name is  Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, Marquis de Lafayette.” Herc’s eyes widened, and he let out a guffaw. “I go strictly by Lafayette. No ‘Gilbert’ and no ‘Marie’.” He smiled, ducking his head a little. “A fancy title for a very plain person, it seems.”

 

Herc smiled softly. “Not so plain to me. Not yet, anyway,” he continued, “you could, like, watch shopping channels and eat plain oatmeal for breakfast every single day. I don’t know your life.” Laf laughed. 

 

“Plain oatmeal is very beneficial for your health.” Herc chuckled. 

 

“Only with the sweet stuff, that’s the only way I take it.” He finished off his sandwich and leaned onto his elbows on the table. “Seriously, though, glad we’re getting along. Glad we’re gonna be neighbors. 

 

Laf smiled wider and leaned forward too, to talk to him more.

 

* * *

 

Herc didn’t know how much time they spent talking, but before he knew it, his watch beeped. He groaned.    
  


“Gotta go meet this landlord about this shitty apartment now,” he sighed, moving to get up from the table. Laf thought for a minute, about the coffee shop, and the walk on the beach that morning.

 

He thought about how the last two hours with Herc had been the happiest he’d been since coming to Maine -- hell, since coming to the United States.

 

He grabbed Herc’s wrist. “Herc, I know this is forward, but do you think you’d like to take the spare room at my apartment?” Herc turned and looked at him, stunned. 

 

“You’d do that?” 

 

Laf nodded. “Yes. I could use a roommate. I, uh,” he looked aside, “it is kind of lonely. You might be my first friend here, and I have been in Maine for two months.” Herc smiled a sad smile.

 

“So what do you want me to do?” Herc asked. “I’ll help with rent, obviously -”

 

Laf waved his hand in an  _ eh  _ gesture. “Here is the thing. I kind of have an inheritance? From when my parents died. It is where the Marquis title comes from. It is how I help with the rent. But,” he continued, “I still work, and today I lost my job. It was a stupid job, but it was a job.” He realized he was still holding Herc’s wrist and let it go with a pat. “So when you open your coffee shop, will you give me… uh, a job?”

 

Herc raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? You’re gonna let me live in your apartment and not pay  _ any rent,  _ and all you want is a job?”

 

Laf shrugged, blushing a little. “And the company,  _ oui.”  _ He looked at Herc. “Does that sound okay?”

 

Herc smiled. “I still feel like I’m ripping you off.” Laf waved a hand at him.

 

“Nonsense,  _ mon nouvel ami,  _ it will be fun! I do love a good cup of coffee. I kind of miss Starbucks.”

 

Herc looked offended. “I’ll have you know my coffee is much better than  _ Starbucks.  _ You insult me.”

 

Laf laughed, standing up. “Come, then. We can get you settled, and then I can give you a town tour?”

 

Herc grinned and stood from the table, shouldering his backpack. “Sounds great. I’ll grab my bags.”

 

* * *

 

Laf’s apartment was on the top floor of the complex, with big windows and a light, airy feel. Herc smiled at the small print of the French flag above the sink, and the yellow flowers by the window. It didn’t feel like a lonely place, he thought. Laf bustled around the hallway, pulling sheets out of a closet and fluffing out a pillow. Herc set down his bag and hurried over, catching a topsheet just as it fell from Laf’s arms. 

 

Laf smiled sheepishly. “Thank you. I am sorry I am so….” he gestured wildly with his hands. 

 

“Flustered?” Herc offered helpfully, with a small smile. 

 

“Ah, yes!” Laf nodded. “Yes, flustered. _A souligné._ It has been a very long time since I hosted any guests, let alone a new housemate. My sister, she would take care of herself.” He looked a little sad. “She was very capable.” Herc instantly recognized the expression he himself had worn for the past three weeks; it was the look of someone who had lost the person closest to them. Herc reached out and squeezed Laf’s elbow gently.

“I’m sure she was. She and my mom would have gotten along, I think.” He pictured his mother’s face in his mind. “She could do anything. Raised a whole business from nothing, she and my dad.” He chuckled as the memories came back to him. “Once, he had to go on a business trip, and my uncles left her by herself with the shop, because it wasn’t doing too hot and they figured she’d be okay, and when everyone came back business was doing twice as well as usual, and my mom was making a suit for the mayor of New York City.” Laf laughed.

 

“Yes, Adrienne was a powerful girl. Never accepted my bullshit.” He wrung the sheet in his hands. “She could make friends anywhere she went. When we travelled, our rooms always got upgraded and we were seated at restaurants faster, simply because Adrienne was friends with the concierge or found something in common with the waiter.” He looked at Herc. “Losing my parents was hard, yes, but losing her was harder.” He looked off. “It is why I am here now, in America. I could not stay in France after she was gone. She wanted me to be happy.”

 

Herc nodded. “I know how it is. My folks died three weeks ago, and right away for my uncles it was all about the business. You gotta take over, they said. Your parents worked hard for this. But I knew they just wanted all the profit and none of the work. And I couldn’t stay in the city. I hated it there. I didn’t really have friends -- just one, and he shared my sentiments. So I left. Came up here.”

 

Laf patted him on the arm, then laughed a little wetly. “ _ Incroyable,  _ we have only met today and we are already getting the heavy stuff out of the way.” Herc laughed.

 

“Better to get to know each other, I suppose,” he said, folding the sheet he was holding in half. 

 

Laf nodded, motioning for Herc to follow him into the guest room with the sheets. “Who is your friend?” He asked. “The one still in New York. Do you speak with him still?”

 

Herc joined him by the bed, helping pull the fitted sheet onto the mattress. “Yeah, he’s my best friend from school. His name’s John. He’s still in college, ‘cause his dad wants him to go into politics. But he hates politics, and he hates the city, and,” he snorted, “he hates his dad, too. Really, there’s no reason for him to stay beyond graduation. He might join me up here, actually. He’s slated to take one more semester course and then get out early in the winter.” 

 

Laf smiled. “That is good! This is a good town. Not too much happens.” He gestured at the windows, gazing out at the ocean. “And, of course, the views are not too bad either.” He picked up the pillow from the floor and tossed it onto the bed. “There. All set. Do you want to walk around now, or move your bags in?”

 

Herc shrugged. “Let’s walk around. It’s nice out, and I don’t have much stuff.” He hip-bumped Laf on his way out the door. “It’ll be fun!” 

 

* * *

The town was bustling with tourists from out of town, but surprisingly, it didn’t feel overcrowded, and Laf led Herc around with ease, showing him the different shops, the beach boardwalk, and the parks and little beach houses on the northern end of town. Maine summers were gorgeous, and Laf adored the sparkling blue sea and the aesthetic look of the beachside town: nautical decorations, pastel cottages, bright red lobsters and anchors at every turn. 

 

They walked onto the boardwalk, passing a shop with a little cage full of colorful hermit crabs out front. Herc smiled and bent down to peer inside. Laf joined him. 

 

“I have never understood the appeal of these small creatures,” he said, waggling a finger at a small red crab with a shell painted with the Superman logo. “They are not the most entertaining pets. They simply hide from you and pinch your fingers.” Herc chuckled.

 

“I kinda feel bad for them,” he said, a little melancholy. “There’s not much for them to do in a cage.”

 

Laf furrowed his brow, then shrugged. “I suppose. They would simply be doing the same thing on the beach.” Herc laughed a little, straightening up. 

 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said. He looked out at the ocean, glittering in the afternoon sun, pastel blue, like it was from a watercolor painting. “They’re not bored, though, that’s for sure. This view is damn gorgeous.”

 

Laf nodded appraisingly. “ _ Oui, c'est la plus belle chose que j'ai jamais vue,  _ except for the beaches in France.” He sighed. “The most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” He looked sideways at Herc, who was gazing transfixed at the sea, and something flipped in his stomach. 

 

_ Stop it, Lafayette,  _ vous êtes stupide.  _ You have only known him for a few hours,  _ he chided himself.  _ You cannot go around having crushes on people you have just met,  _ notamment  _ new roommates.  _ But he still had a difficult time controlling the blush rising in his cheeks.  _ Imbécile.  _

 

Herc sighed a little wistfully. “You never see stuff like this in New York, man. Coney Island’s just not the same.” Laf nodded. 

 

“ _ Oui.  _ I only went to Coney Island once. I found I didn’t enjoy it too much. It was very crowded.”

 

Herc nodded. “Yeah. I went a lot as a kid, but I feel like I liked it better when we went somewhere else, outside the city. It felt more real.” He looked at Laf as they walked along the boardwalk. “It’s one of the reasons I wanted to come up here. We came to the beach here, once, when I was seven. Best vacation of my life.” He smiled wryly at the memory. “Never left me, that feeling. I always knew I wanted to leave the city.”

 

Laf nodded. “I had the same feelings. I loved France, but I always knew that someday I wanted to live in America, to live that dream that everyone always told me about. Where you could be anyone.” He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. “And I had never really had a true reason to leave France, until my family died. So I came. But New York,” he continued, frowning, “while it was like the America I had heard about sometimes, it was not the America I wanted to live in. The people move very fast. Everyone is very rude. They have no time for anything.” 

 

Laf shrugged. “I did not like it. So I asked my friend back in France, who had been here many times, and he told me, ‘ _ Mon ami,  _ you must go up north!’ He told me that the summers were beautiful and the winters were snowy, and the people moved slower and enjoyed life more.” He smiled at Herc. “So, two months ago, I moved to Maine. And I have not looked back at New York since.” He gazed at the ocean. “Or, really, France, for that matter.” 

 

Herc shoulder-bumped him a little. “There’s no shame in that. You can love where you came from, but know you gotta move on. You did what you needed to do.” Laf looked at him.

 

“I know that, inside. But sometimes I feel like I am not finding what I came looking for. That nothing truly good has happened. That I am not  _ doing  _ good.”

 

Herc smiled a little sheepishly. “Well, I met you, and you became my friend. That’s the best thing that’s happened to me all month.” He blushed a little and turned past Laf to look down the boardwalk. “I’d say that’s doing at least some good.” 

 

Laf grinned, and together they sidled down the beach.

 

* * *

 

Later that evening, sitting on his bed, Herc texted John.

 

**Herc Mulligan: john. red alert.**

 

**John Laurens: dude, what’s wrong? your trip go alright?**

 

**Herc Mulligan: yeah, yeah, all that’s fine**

 

**Herc Mulligan: that’s not the problem**

 

**John Laurens: well, spill, man.**

 

**Herc Mulligan: so at the cafe today I met this guy and we talked for a long time**

 

**Herc Mulligan: and now we’re friends**

 

**Herc Mulligan: like, i-have-only-known-him-for-a-day-but-we’re-already-close friends**

 

**Herc Mulligan: and he offered to let me room with him because the other landlord was an ass and this is close to the coffee shop**

 

**Herc Mulligan: and**

 

**John Laurens: and???????**

 

**Herc Mulligan: AND HE’S REALLY CUTE AND I THINK I HAVE A CRUSH ON HIM**

 

**John Laurens: HERC YOU DOG. SPILL. THE. DEETS.**

 

**Herc Mulligan: ok ok so he’s from france and he’s lived in the us for like three months he moved here because his parents and sister died it was really sad i wanted to hug him**

 

**Herc Mulligan: and he has a long-ass name so he goes by Lafayette or Laf**

 

**Herc Mulligan: and he’s tall and has a lot of poofy hair and a cute accent**

 

**Herc Mulligan: and we get along so well it’s ridiculous he’s so easy to talk to jfc**

 

**Herc Mulligan: I am Suffering**

 

**Herc Mulligan: in a good way. obv.**

 

**John Laurens: herc, my man**

 

**John Laurens: you are, how do you say it?**

 

**John Laurens: ah, yes.**

 

**John Laurens: Majorly Fucked.**

 

**Herc Mulligan: I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW**

 

**Herc Mulligan: It’ll be fine. In other news this town is super awesome and you should totally move here**

 

**John Laurens: I am packing already. I can come meet you and your boyfriend, Laf**

 

**Herc Mulligan: never speak to me again**

 

Herc texted with John a bit more before plugging in his phone to charge and flopping down into bed, pulling the blankets up to his shoulders. 

 

He sighed, a little happily, and drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Laf woke  up the next morning and smelled...eggs?

 

Curious, he fixed his hair and stumbled out of bed, rubbing under his eyes and shrugging on a soft hoodie over his shirt. Soft morning light drifted into the living room, over the ocean; Laf guessed it was about eight in the morning. Walking into the kitchen, he discovered the source of the smells: Herc was standing at the counter, humming softly, flipping an omelette in one of Laf’s frying pans. Laf’s heart just about exploded.  _ Bon dieu, Lafayette, get ahold of yourself,  _ his brain chided him as he walked up to the kitchen counter and settled on a barstool.

 

He turned and spotted Laf coming into the kitchen. “Morning!” he greeted him, nudging forward a mug. “Made breakfast. And coffee.” Laf smiled and accepted the mug, dumping sugar into the black coffee and lazily swirling it with one finger.

 

“Thank you for this,” Laf said, gesturing at all of the food items scattered around the house. “You did not have to make anything.” Herc shrugged.

 

“I know. But I figured I should think of something to thank you for letting me room here. And,” he continued, picking up a plate and sliding it suavely down the counter, “I’m told my omelettes are excellent. So, breakfast!” He grinned widely as Laf took a bite of the eggs and sighed happily. 

 

“Herc,  _ c’est tres bien!  _ This is fantastic!” He swallowed and started in for more. “Seriously, thank you for making breakfast. I have not sat down for a meal in the morning in a long time. It is very refreshing,” he said. Herc grinned, turning off the stove and leaning across from him on the counter with his own food. 

 

“I’m really glad you like it! Uh, speaking of food.” Herc waved a little with his fork as he swallowed a bite of his food. “I want the coffee shop to have a little bakery box, but, eh, I’m kind of a terrible baker. He grimaced. “Are you, like… good at that?”

 

Laf smiled widely. “Herc,  _ mon ami,  _ you could not have picked a better area!” He forked another piece of omelette. “I adore baking. I do it as a hobby.” Herc smiled.

 

“That’s great! You think you could make that part of your job at the coffee shop? Baking stuff?”

 

Laf clapped. “Yes, of course! That would be so much fun!” He paused. “We could do a.. What is the phrase I am looking for? A taste test?” He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, a taste test. To pick out what I would make, for the shop.” Herc nodded. 

 

“Yeah, that sounds like a really good idea!” Herc looked out the window, at the empty storefront across the street. “I’m going to the space today to haggle with the guy who owns it; if you wouldn’t mind baking stuff this morning, that’d be a really nice way to end the day.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Honestly, I’m really nervous.”

 

Laf shook his head, patting Herc’s hand where it rested on the counter. “ _ Mon ami,  _ you have nothing to worry about! You are going to be very successful, I am sure of it.” He smiled. “And I would be happy to bake today. I’ll walk there with you, if you would like, on my way to the store.” 

 

Herc smiled, and Laf really hoped it wasn’t just his imagination, but he looked like he was blushing just a little. “Sure, yeah, I’d like that. Ready in a few?”

 

Laf nodded, and tried to avoid all but sprinting to his room to look up recipes and try to stomp out his really, really rapidly developing crush on his new roommate.

 


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I should really be doing my math homework, but I might not have school tomorrow because of snow, so! Here's chapter two.
> 
> it is shorter than the last one; apologies for dawdling, I had writers block combined with the fact that it's tech week for our spring show and I'm the head lighting designer. Meaning, I haven't slept in days. Wheeeeeee.
> 
> So yep! Enjoy!

Herc exited the complex into the warm sunlight, the rays coming off the ocean warming his toes in their sandals. He squinted into the afternoon sun. “Really need a pair of sunglasses,” he muttered, as Laf fell into step beside him. 

 

Laf snorted. “ _ Mon ami,  _ there are at least ten shops in this tiny town that sell sunglasses. We can find you a pair.” They crossed the street to the storefront, which sat on the corner of a thin city block, the wide window display looking out on the ocean. Herc sighed. 

 

“It’s the perfect place, Laf, look at it! There could be seats right here,” he gestured to the bar at the window, “and a counter over there, and back there is the kitchen where you could bake and--” he broke off abruptly. Laf patted him on the shoulder. 

 

“You are right. It is perfect. And you have no reason to be nervous.” He smiled. “I will see you back at home, after the meeting?” 

 

Herc nodded. “Sounds good.” Laf watched as he headed inside and turned to walk down the block to the grocery store.  _ Where you could bake where you could bake where you could bake-- _

 

The store was exactly the same as it had been the last time Laf had step foot inside, before they’d fired him. White linoleum floors, navy blue aisles of shelving, cheesy nautical decorations and racks of town t-shirts near the checkout. Laf strolled leisurely towards the baking aisle, grabbing different ingredients he thought would make good pastries for Herc’s coffee shop, laughing to himself as he remembered his dull two months of stocking ingredients and checking out tourists with ludicrous amounts of groceries for one-week stays. He tossed a bag of shredded coconut on top of the other items in his basket and wandered towards the front, using self-checkout to avoid any awkward encounters with his admittedly distant former coworkers. They were mostly teenagers from the city with summer jobs, so he hadn’t talked to them much, but he certainly didn’t want to start now. 

 

He walked out of the automatic sliding doors and huffed. “Good riddance,” he muttered, setting back off towards the apartment.

 

Back in the kitchen, Laf rolled up his sleeves, put on Adrienne’s favorite playlist, and set to work baking small batches of different things. He churned out three different types of bars, two cookie varieties, and was just working his hands through a batch of dough for croissants when Herc stumbled through the front door of the apartment, looking exhausted but happy. Laf paused the music. 

 

“Well?” He asked, hopefully, already thinking he knew the answer. Herc grinned at him. 

 

“Got it. It’s mine tomorrow morning.” 

 

Laf let out a delighted yell and leapt away from the counter to tackle Herc in a hug, belatedly realizing his hands were still covered in flour, as was Herc’s shirt, now. He stumbled back a little. “Oops. Sorry.” Herc looked over his shoulder and broke down into giggles, bracing his hands on his knees.    
  


“Man, I don’t care,” he laughed, hugging Laf again. Laf beamed, tightening his grip. “I got it, amn, I got the shop!” 

 

Laf laughed with him. “I am so happy for you!” He leaned back, holding Herc at arm’s length. “And now, to celebrate, you will help me with the baking.” He clapped Herc on the shoulder, leaving another floury handprint. “You are already dressed for the job!”

Herc growled, a mischievous grin on his face, then slapped his hand on the flour-dusted counter and smacked Laf in the side, leaving a large print on his dark blue t-shirt. Laf gasped dramatically. “Herc, you wound me!” He brushed it off a little, knowing it wouldn’t come out, then wandered over to the counter and stuck his hands back in the dough. “Come. I will teach you anything you don’t know.”

 

They stood side by side at the counter late into the evening, baking, until they both flopped onto the couch exhausted, hands scrubbed of ingredients and every available kitchen surface covered in cooling trays. Laf laughed. “We will not be running out of sugar in this place anytime soon, that is for sure.” Herc chuckled. 

 

“Oh, man. We gotta try everything tomorrow.” He stretched, then settled, his shoulder brushing Laf’s. “It’s been a long day, though. I don’t wanna move.” Laf shrugged.

 

“Netflix?” He offered, holding up the remote. Herc grinned. 

 

“Yeah! Sure, let’s find something good.”

 

They put a movie on, but Laf felt himself dozing within the first thirty minutes, and as he glanced over at Herc, he could tell he was just as tired. Laf tried to force his eyes open, but gradually he felt himself slipping off, the sounds of the movie in the background and Herc’s soft, even breaths lulling him to sleep.

 

Xxx

 

Herc woke up the next morning to his phone’s alarm, with mid-morning sunlight streaming through the living room window and… a person next to him? Herc opened his eyes fully, and remembered that he’d fallen asleep on the couch. Laf was still sprawled half on his shoulder, sound asleep. Herc ignored the way his stomach flipped and gently extracted himself without waking Laf, heading towards the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

 

When he reemerged, Laf was wandering into the kitchen, sorting through the different baked good that were scattered on the countertops. He met Herc’s eyes and smiled softly. “Good morning,” he said, stifling a yawn as he piled two of everything on a large plate. Herc resisted the urge to scream internally. He walked over, helping Laf pile cookies and bars onto the platter. 

 

“Are we taste-testing for breakfast?” He asked. Laf nodded. 

 

“And then you can head to the shop. What are you doing there today?” He asked, leading them out of the kitchen to sit back on the couch. Herc settled down next to him, snatching what looked like a chocolate croissant. 

 

“I’m gonna look around the space and do some planning, figure out what I need to order, stuff like that.” He bit into the croissant and couldn’t stifle a groan. “Dude, this is  _ amazing.  _ What is this, hazelnut?”

 

Laf blushed. “ _ Oui,  _ it is an old recipe of my mother’s. A good breakfast food.” He met Herc’s gaze. “You like it?” Herc raised an eyebrow, replying around another mouthful. 

 

“Like it? Man, this is, like, the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” He set it down on a napkin. “You wanna get dressed and come with me to the shop today? You can bring these, and we can talk about ideas, get oriented with the place.” Laf nodded, putting the plate down on the coffee table. 

 

“Yes, that sounds good! I will be ready in a few minutes? Not long,” he said. Herc nodded, grabbing a chunky-looking bar and biting into it.

 

“Yeah, sounds good!” He watched Laf disappear back into the hallway and sighed, flopping over on the couch with what appeared to be a caramel-pretzel brownie, sighing. He pulled out his phone to find a text from John.

 

**John Laurens: dude, that’s great that you got the shop! Congrats!**

 

**Herc Mulligan: thanks, man! I’m really excited.**

 

**John Laurens: so.**

 

**John Laurens: how’s dream boy?**

 

**Herc Mulligan: fuck off**

 

**Herc Mulligan: fuckin fantastic, that’s how**

 

**Herc Mulligan: John, it’s been three days. I think I’m going a little bit crazy.**

 

**John Laurens: You’re in loooove**

 

**John Laurens: anything exciting happen?? ;)**

 

**Herc Mulligan: uh well last night we fell asleep**

 

**Herc Mulligan: together**

 

**Herc Mulligan: on the couch**

 

**John Laurens: HERC HOLY SHIT WHAAAA**

 

**John Laurens: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU**

 

**Herc Mulligan: JOHN HIS HAIR IS SO SOFT**

 

**John Laurens: that’s the most adorable shit ive ever seen i s2g this is ridiculous**

 

**Herc Mulligan: oh my god he’s gonna work in the coffee shop too i don’t know what i’m going to do with myself**

 

**John Laurens: Like I said, dude. You’re fucked.**

**John Laurens: three fuckin days i swear**

 

**John Laurens: I gotta go to class, dude. Later**

 

**Herc Mulligan: see you**

 

Herc pocketed his phone as Laf emerged in fresh clothes, grabbing the plate of pastries and dumping them into a plastic gallon bag. He zipped it and placed it into the backpack he was holding, slinging it onto his back. “Oh, by the way,” he said, and reached into his bag. He pulled out a pair of mirrored aviators and tossed them to Herc, who caught them with a massive grin. Laf winked. “A congratulations gift for you!” Laughing, Herc stood up, hinging the sunglasses on the collar of his t-shirt and stretching widely.

 

“Ready to go?” he asked Laf, who was shouldering his backpack. Laf grinned, opening the door wide and gesturing out into the hall.

 

“After you!”

 

Herc sidled out into the hallway, then turned and offered Laf his elbow. “Shall we?” he asked, winking and sliding on his sunglasses, delighting silently in the way Laf turned slightly pink before interlocking their arms.

 

“Such a gentleman,” Laf muttered, and they walked arm in arm all the way down the stairs (the elevator in the complex had reportedly never worked at all), and across the street to the coffee shop, where Herc gently released Laf’s arm to unlock the door, a new grin spreading on his face as he pulled out his key.  _ His  _ key,  _ his  _ coffeeshop. His new life, he mused, as he opened the door for Laf and they both walked inside. Herc let out a little sigh. 

 

Sunlight off the ocean streamed through the glass window that made up the facade of the store, shining on the dark, recycled wood floors. Herc ran his fingers lightly along the walls, imagining pale grays and light blues, shining countertops, the smell of coffee grindings and steamed milk and brownies in the kitchen behind the counter.  _ Laf.  _ Herc glanced over at his friend, and  _ God,  _  how bizarre it seemed, that he and Laf hadn’t even known each other a week, and already Herc felt like he’d known him for years, knew that he wanted him to stick around. There was something about him that made Herc want to learn everything about him, talk to him every day - something felt  _ right.  _

 

Herc knew he was falling in love much too fast for it to be good for him, but somehow he couldn’t really find it in himself to care.

 

Laf met his gaze and smiled. (The room seemed to visibly brighten.) “It is beautiful, Herc,” he said, gazing around the shop. “I am very excited for you!” Herc ran his hands over the smooth counters.

 

“Yeah, it's gonna be pretty good,” he mused. “I'm gonna walk around and take stock of what I think we're gonna need.” He reached under the counter and grabbed the legal pad he'd left there yesterday, already scribbled with notes. “You wanna, um…” He looked up at Laf. “Check out the kitchen?” Laf nodded eagerly, sidling past Herc and pushing through the kitchen doors.

 

Leaving Herc alone with his thoughts, again. He sighed, plunking his forehead down on the counter, unable to contain the little smile that made its way onto his face. Crushes weren’t  _ that  _ big of a deal, right? Laf was just kind of good-looking. That was it. And he was funny, and really smart, and had a cute accent, and a pretty smile, and baked really good brownies…

 

Herc huffed out a laugh. Yeah, he really was fucked.

 

Xxx

 

Laf pushed his way into the kitchen space behind the coffee shop and gasped a little.

 

The space was thin, but not cramped, with natural light flooding in from a window that faced the ocean. Space for two ovens lay empty under the wide counters, and simple white cabinets hung unintrusively around the space. It was brimming with potential, and Laf wandered over to the window, imagining himself in this kitchen every day, baking for people, helping Herc with the shop, and being able to watch the surf. 

 

It sounded like he was going to wake up and have it all be a dream, if Laf was being honest with himself. “ _ Si jolie!”  _ he murmured, watching the pale blue waves wash up on the beach, a few tourists in bathing suits meandering up and down the sand.  _ Adrienne really would have loved it here,  _ he thought to himself, a little sadly. 

 

He thought about what Herc had said to him, about his mother. His parents. They had only died three weeks ago, and already Herc had felt the need to escape from a life he obviously hadn’t enjoyed. It made Laf sad, thinking about it. At least after the deaths of his parents, he had had Adrienne. Herc had had no one.  _ Well, except for this friend, John _ , mused Laf. He wanted to meet John. He also sort of wanted to find Herc’s uncles and slap them both upside the face. Herc didn’t deserve pain, or rejection. He deserved someone who loved him. 

 

Laf sighed, leaning on the counter and propping his chin up on his hands. It had only been, what, three days since Herc had moved into town? Laf had never had a crush like this before.  _ You cannot ruin this, Lafayette,  _ he chided himself.  _ This is already shaping up to be a very good friendship. You cannot scare him off by revealing that you have feelings for him.  _ He snorted.  _ Quel désastre. What a mess. _

 

He heard the doors to the kitchen swing open behind him, and turned to see Herc pushing his way in, looking around. “You like the kitchen?” he asked, sounding hopeful. Laf straightened up, nodding eagerly.

 

“ _ Oui,  _ it is gorgeous!” he agreed, leaning back to push himself up onto the counter, letting his legs swing a little. He waved to the window. “And the view is  _ magnifique.  _ You picked a good place to open.” 

 

Herc grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I did a pretty good job, didn’t I?” He smiled out at the ocean. “It really is beautiful here. I’d forgotten how much I loved it.”

  
Laf nodded. “Yes,” he replied, never taking his eyes off of Herc, “one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there ya have it, folks! I'll do my best to get chapter three up in a more timely manner. (And make it longer.)
> 
> Like the story? Hitting the kudos button takes two seconds! Questions, comments, or advice? Comments make my day!
> 
> Finally, share the story with your friends if they're fans of this pairing! The HamFandom is really sorely lacking in Herc/Laf material. It's very disappointing.
> 
> scream with me some more on my tumblr: starpuffin


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early summer turns into July, and Herc and Laf can't keep dancing around each other forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that took FOREVER. But I updated!!!! Finally!!!!
> 
> And yes, as you may have noticed, there's now an official chapter count. Let's hope I can stick to it.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

If he was being honest with himself, Herc’s four first days in Maine had made him sort of forget what stress felt like. One thing for certain: he certainly remembered now.

 

Opening a coffee shop from scratch was a  _ lot  _ of work. Herc was spending all of his days poring over websites, ordering everything from espresso machines to paint samples to new aprons. He was setting dates for employee interviews. He was pacing around the shop day after day, testing swatches and decoration styles until he never wanted to see another paint card again. Almost a month had passed since the move, and Maine was well into the middle of the summer tourist season, which didn’t help matters; kids and adults alike loved to gawk through the windows like the empty space was an exhibit, even though Herc had no idea whatsoever why it was so fascinating to them.

 

He knew Laf was feeling stress, too. Stress baking did mean that their apartment was constantly filled with nice smells, but stress was stress, and Herc felt bad for putting his exhaustion on his friend. They weren’t unhappy, though. Far from it. Herc sat by the windows while he ate dinner one night and knew it was probably the happiest he’d ever been in his life. 

 

He looked at Laf, and that now-familiar ache returned to his chest, but, he thought to himself, if this was the price he had to pay for the life he was living; well, he’d take it for now. 

 

The next morning, however, brought a new… layer to Herc’s distress. 

 

“What do you mean, there’s no Home Depot around here?!” He cried, throwing his hands up in the air and nearly whacking the moving man in the face as he carried in a large box of barstools. “Sorry,” he muttered, and as the man nodded, he turned back to Laf, who was sitting on one of the new chairs looking a little concerned.

 

“I am sorry, Herc. I do not control the retail around here. It is a small town, though; I do not know why you are so surprised.” He tentatively reached for his coffee and took a sip as Herc groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

 

“This is a summer tourist destination. People buy and rent out beach houses here all the time. Shouldn’t there be SOME SORT,” he smacked the counter, causing Laf to choke a bit on his drink, “OF HOME IMPROVEMENT PLACE?” He winced as Laf sputtered a bit and reached over to pat him on the back. “Uh. Sorry, man.” 

 

Laf waved him off. “You are fine. But while your reasons are, eh, what is the word? Legitimate. That is the reality, Herc. The nearest Home Depot is in Portland, and for the amount of things you need for the coffee shop, that is one hell of a day trip.” 

 

Herc barked out a laugh. “Lord.” Laf shrugged.

 

“We could do an overnight trip. A road trip!” He smiled. “That would be fun,  _ oui?”  _ Herc propped his chin in his hands. A road trip. Huh. 

 

“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” he mused. He grinned. “We’re gonna need to rent a car, though. I doubt the train people are gonna let me carry on an entire fucking oven.”

 

Xxx

 

Laf dashed around his room, stuffing everything he needed into a large duffel bag. He never thought he’d be going on what was practically a minor vacation just to go to the Home Depot, but here he was, getting ready to pack the SUV he and Herc had rented and drive down to Portland for three whole days.  _ Merci,  _ he had to think about how he was going to spend hours in the car with Herc. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it all the way there without exploding. 

 

_ Calmez-vous, Lafayette,  _ he told himself.  _ You are going to be fine. The two of you have been living with each other for a month. Everything will be okay.  _ Zipping the duffel shut, he nodded to himself and forced the blush out of his cheeks, grabbing his bag and jogging out into the kitchen, where Herc was attempting to stuff muffins into a large plastic tupperware container. Laf bit back a laugh and put his bag down next to Herc’s, walking over to the counter. 

 

“Do you need a hand?” he offered, trying and probably failing to keep the mirth out of his voice. Herc huffed, staring down the pumpkin chocolate chip muffin in his hand defiantly. 

 

“No…” he muttered, sounding like a five-year-old trying to reach a high shelf, and Laf didn’t hold back his laughter, tugging the container forward and taking the muffin from Herc. He didn’t miss the way their fingers brushed, and forced himself not to linger. He expertly fitted the muffin into the container and snapped the lid shut, patting the back of Herc’s hand in mock pity. 

 

“Come,  _ mon cherie,  _ the sooner we get on the road, the better,” he called as he grabbed his bag and headed for the door, laughing at Herc’s bewildered expression as he stared at the container of muffins. It was a warm day, the crowds just arriving for the week of July 4, and Laf was immeasurably glad that they had chosen that weekend to get out of town. He would miss the decorations, though; he smiled at the classic striped bunting and flags decorating the beach houses and the boardwalk. He shoved his bag into the second row of the car, leaving the trunk free, then hopped into the driver’s seat, breathing in the rental car smell as Herc emerged into the sunlight from the apartment building and plopped his bag into the car, sliding into the passenger seat.

 

“You’re okay with driving first?” He asked, sounding uncertain. Laf nodded, smiling as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. 

 

“Yes, of course! I did offer, after all,” he said. He winked. “Besides, this way I get to control the music.” He laughed at Herc’s pretend horror, then took off the brake and drove down Main Street and out of town.

 

The road they picked to take to Portland took them along the coastline, and Laf cracked the windows open to let the sea air rush in. Herc nodded to the music, drumming his fingers on his armrest as the Atlantic Northwest rushed by. Laf kept his eyes on the road, watching Herc out of his peripheral vision as they drove in comfortable silence.

 

After about an hour, they pulled into a small restaurant by a beach for food. They sat at a wooden picnic table with baskets of lobster rolls and potato chips and watched the waves crashing on the beach, basking in the warm July weather. Herc looked at Laf and smiled. Laf furrowed his brow. “What is it?”

 

Herc made a little  _ pshaw  _ noise. “Aw, nothing. It’s our first road trip!” he said, shrugging, his face a little red. “Friendship milestone, ‘s all.” Laf leaned his chin on his hand.

 

“You are a sap,” he sighed, patting Herc on the back of the hand and crunching into another chip. Herc rolled his eyes, and the moment was broken. But Herc’s words stayed with Laf after they got back into the car and kept driving, and he smiled to himself.

 

Xxx

 

Herc offered to drive after lunch, and slid into the driver’s seat, taking them through the sunny afternoon the rest of the way to Portland. They cruised into the small city, navigating the stop lights and urban vacationers as they made their way to their hotel. Herc looked around at the city blocks and smiled a little; even though his gut clenched thinking of New York and what he’d left behind, there was no denying that city life had a certain sort of charm to it.  _ And convenience,  _ Herc added in his head, watching with envy as a shopper entered a 7-11. He hadn’t seen one of those in months. Laf must have noticed his face, because he laughed in the passenger seat.

“We have candy and newspapers back home, Herc,” he joked, and Herc rolled his eyes.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Just something about city living, you know?” Laf shifted.

 

“I never really enjoyed it,” he said. He glanced at Herc, looking uncertain. “Do you plan to move back someday?”

 

Herc frowned, leaving the convenience store behind them as the light they were sitting at turned green. “No,” he said suddenly, with almost complete certainty. He looked at Laf out of the corner of his eye, framed in the sunlight streaming through the buildings, and he shook his head again.

 

“No, I’m never moving back.” Laf nodded, but Herc saw a small smile creeping onto his face.

 

The hotel they pulled into was clean and simple; they parked and walked into the lobby, guests milling around with cameras and backpacks. Herc walked up to the desk and greeted the woman standing there. “Hi, I have a reservation for a double room?” he asked. “Should be under Mulligan.” She nodded and typed it into the computer, then frowned.

 

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry, sir, but your room got taken.”

 

Herc blinked. “It got taken? What do you mean?”

 

She made an apologetic face. “Someone must have paid higher for it; probably a family on vacation. It just happened this morning, according to the records.” She met Herc’s eyes. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do to get it back for you.”

 

Herc leaned forward on the checkin desk. “Don’t you have any other rooms like that?”

 

She shook her head. “No, we don’t. It’s the busy season.” She typed something in. “I can get you a somewhat spacious room, but it’ll only have one bed.”

 

Herc flushed. “Oh. Um. Let me go talk to my - erm, friend.” Shaking his head, he walked over to where Laf was with the bags. “Uh, Laf? They had a problem with the room. They can get us another one, but, uh…” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’d only have one bed. We can try to look for another hotel, but I doubt--”

 

Something unidentifiable passed across Laf’s face, and then he stood up. “No, that should be fine,” he interjected. Herc blinked.

 

“You sure?” Herc asked. “I mean, if you think it’s fine then--”

 

Laf waved him off. “Yes, Herc, it will be fine. It is no big deal.”

 

Herc felt like ping-pong balls were rocketing around in his chest.  _ No big deal, my ass,  _ he thought to himself, fighting to maintain a calm expression. “Alright, then, I’ll let them know.”

 

He walked back up to the desk, where the employee looked like she was fighting off a smile. “We’ll take the room,” he said, and she nodded. 

 

“Perfect!” she said, her fingers clacking on the keys of the computer. She grabbed two key cards and slid them smoothly across the counter. “Room 314. I’m Alana if you have any questions for the desk!” 

 

Herc grinned at her. “Thanks.” He waved to Laf. “C’mon!”

 

The room was on the third floor, with a small living area and windows providing an expansive view of the city. Herc wandered into the bedroom and set his bag down by the closet, staring down the large white bed.  _ You don’t need to freak out, Herc. It’s only one night. One night of sharing a bed with your best friend who you have a massive crush on. You’re going to be fine. _

 

Laf wandered into the room and huffed, promptly flopping onto the bed and stretching his arms out, his shirt riding up a little to expose a strip of dark skin and abs. Herc gulped.

 

_ Man, you’re fucked. _

 

Xxx

 

Laf thought that following Herc around the Home Depot in Portland that afternoon might have just been the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

 

Sure, the coffee shop planning was stressful, but it was times like these when Laf saw just how excited Herc was. He gathered paint samples in veritable bouquets, gawked at huge industrial ovens and gleaming countertop samples. Laf watched with a soft smile as he investigated a lighting fixture with his brow furrowed in concentration, squinting at the metal accents. He straightened up and promptly bonked his head on a shelf. Laf burst out laughing.

 

Herc frowned, rubbing the top of his head gingerly. “Hey, c’mon, that hurt,” he muttered. Laf grinned, nudging the flat cart he was pushing towards Herc.

 

“So what do you think? Do you like them?” Herc smiled eagerly again and nodded. 

 

“Yeah, they’re nice. And within the price range, too.” He gazed around the store, with its cavernous metal shelves and industrial lighting. “I’m happy. This is going really well.” Spotting an employee, Herc flagged the poor guy down and began blasting him with questions about wiring the lights. Laf smiled, his chest fluttering a little at the wide-eyed curiosity on Herc’s face.

 

Herc. Herc was probably Laf’s best friend. His only friend, really. His handsome, thoughtful, enthusiastic best friend who Laf was most definitely, positively not head-over-heels in love with.  _ And you have to share a bed with him,  _ Laf’s mind helpfully reminded him. Laf suppressed a groan.

 

He didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into, and he’d almost had half a mind to suggest searching for another hotel. But sitting there, in the lobby, there had been an expression on Herc’s face that Laf couldn’t quite identify. Nerves? A pink touch to his cheeks? So Laf had played it cool and said it was fine, and now he was in this mess.

 

_ Laf, ami, you read too much into things,  _ he scolded himself.  _ Herc is not in love with you. And now you have to share a bed. Which, really, is not that big of a deal, but you are making it into one, so naturally you have to freak out. Naturally.  _ He sighed, shaking the probably morose expression off of his face as Herc wandered away from the bewildered-looking worker with a legal pad full of notes and several more boxes that he plopped onto the cart. He grinned widely.

 

“I think I’m ready to check out,” he said, frowning as he searched the store with his eyes, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. “Okay. Yeah. I’ve ordered everything that I need delivered to the shop, and we have everything else right here…” Laf chuckled and reached out to clap him on the shoulder. Herc met his eyes.

 

“Herc,  _ mon ami, _ ” Laf said to him, “you are ready. And,” he added, noting Herc’s strained posture, “you are exhausted. It has been a long day; let’s find something to eat and get back to the hotel so we can drive back in the morning. You need a break.” Herc searched his eyes for a moment before nodding with a smile. They turned, Laf pushing the cart as they headed towards the register.

 

“Hey, Laf?” Herc said. Laf looked up.

 

“Yes?”

 

Herc smiled softly and patted Laf’s hand where it rested on the handle of the cart. “Thanks. For everything, I mean,” he said, his other hand going up to scratch the back of his neck. “For becoming my friend, for letting me move in with you,” he laughed, “for helping me with this… everything.” He met Laf’s eyes. “Means a lot, to have someone really care about you. People like that have been a little hard to come by for me.” 

 

Laf just about melted right there in the plumbing aisle. He reached out and rubbed Herc’s arm. “You are welcome.” He quirked a smile. “And thank you, for being my friend as well. I was,” he sighed, “lonely. And sad.” He looked down at his hands. “I have not been very sad since I met you, and that speaks volumes.” Laf looked up, and Herc’s eyes were shining, and they stood there for a moment, not speaking. Laf’s breath caught a little in his throat.

 

Herc coughed a little, suddenly. “I think people are wondering why we’re just standing here.” Laf broke eye contact, shaking his head a little.

 

“Right. Yes, of course.” He busied himself pushing the cart towards the register, not meeting Herc’s gaze as he felt his face turn red.  _ Merci, what were you thinking, Laf? What, like he was about to kiss you? You are being ridiculous.  _ They didn’t speak as Herc checked out and they unloaded the bags into the rental car, but as they drove back to the hotel, Herc smiled at him from the passenger seat, and Laf knew things were okay.

 

It didn’t stop the cold, anxious knot from returning to the pit of his stomach.

 

Xxx

 

Herc cursed himself all the way back to the hotel.

 

_ You’re so obvious,  _ he told himself,  _ you’re surprised he hasn’t said anything.  _ Curse himself, he thought, for being the sentimental sap that he was.  _ And in the middle of the Home Depot, too. Really, man?  _

 

Herc was worried about the awkward silence that had ensued following their conversation, but in the car, he’d risked a glance at Laf, and everything seemed to shift back to normal. But while he should have been relieved, Herc just found himself feeling a little stung.  _ He just moved past it life that,  _ his conscience reasoned in the back of his mind.  _ Of course he’s not in love with you. Did you really think he would be?  _ Herc reasoned that the answer was probably no. But the confirmation hurt all the same.

 

They agreed to order pizza to the hotel room, and sat on the bed with the large pie in between them, Laf listening as Herc discussed his plans for the shop. Herc figured that he’d be able to open in the fall, right on time for the cold to come in. He smiled happily, looking around the small room at the bags they’d brought in and Laf across from him, and marveled at how far he’d come since leaving New York City in June.

 

Around nine o’clock, the pizza box thrown away and the summer sun long set over Portland, Laf let out a giant yawn. “We should probably sleep now,” he murmured, “if we would like to get back early.” Herc nodded, rubbing his eyes, and wandered into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He stared himself down in the mirror.

 

_ This is not a big deal,  _ he told himself.  _ Get over it.  _

 

He came back out as Laf was redoing his hair in a bun, and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to turn off the light on the nightstand. Laf did the same, then flopped onto the pillow on his side and let out a sigh.

 

“Good night, Herc,” he said softly as Herc laid down.

 

“Night, Laf,” he murmured, his eyes already falling shut.

 

His sleep was far from dreamless. He saw the car crash, over and over, replayed in the same segment they had shown on the news for days after his parents had died. But he was there, he was standing by the wreckage of the burning vehicle, and his mother and father stood in front of him, blood on their temples, their eyes unseeing as his mother whispered, “Why didn’t you do more? Why didn’t you stay?” His uncles paced around him, their eyes shining with malice and hatred, and Herc sank to the ground, feeling smaller than he’d ever felt in his life, as the news cameras flashed their lights at him over and over and over --

 

He woke with a start to a hand on his arm, his eyes struggling to adjust as a lamp turned on, filling the room with dim light. He sat up to see Laf next to him, looking at him with concern. “Herc, is everything okay?” Laf whispered, rubbing his arm gently. “You were having a nightmare.” Herc looked away, and Laf reached out and squeezed his hand. “Herc,” he whispered, “you don’t have to be strong.”

 

The words practically knocked the wind out of him, and Herc’s shoulders shook as he crumbled, tears streaming down his face.

 

Laf murmured gently. “It’s okay,” he whispered, tugging Herc into a tight hug. Herc shifted closer, crying silently into Laf’s shoulder, feeling his arms wrap around Herc’s shoulders, rubbing comforting circles on his back. “Shh,” Laf whispered reassuringly, “it’s okay. You are here. You are here and everything is going to be okay.” Gradually, Herc relaxed, Laf’s comforting presence and reassuring arms dissolving the last traces of the dream.  _ Everything was going to be okay, because Laf was there.  _

 

At some point, Laf turned the lamp back off, his chin resting on Herc’s shoulder, and that was the last thing Herc remembered before falling asleep again. 

 

Xxx

 

Laf woke up around nine in the morning with sun streaming in under the hotel blinds and Herc’s head tucked between his neck and shoulder. Ping-pong balls rocketed around in his chest, and he yawned a little, pretending he didn’t breathe in Herc’s scent just a little. (Laf tried to ignore the flutter he felt in his chest when he noticed how Herc smelled just a little like the ocean.)

 

They’d originally set an alarm for eight thirty, but Laf had woken Herc from his nightmare around three in the morning, and he knew he needed the sleep. Forcing himself to wake up a little more, he carefully slipped out of bed, breathing a silent sigh of relief when Herc remained asleep, and set about getting dressed and packing their things.

 

Herc stirred around nine thirty, sitting up just as Laf was zipping his suitcase. “What?” he muttered, then looked at the clock. “Shit! Sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. (Laf had noticed that that was an awkward habit of Herc’s. He didn’t mention it.) Laf stood up and stretched.

 

“Do not be silly,  _ mon ami,  _ and do not be sorry. You had a rough night. You needed the sleep.” Herc rubbed a hand across his face, giving him a grateful look.

 

“Thanks,” he said quietly, “by the way. About last night.” He avoided Laf’s eyes. Laf smiled gently, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed.

 

“My parents,” he started, “were very kind people. They were wealthy,  _ oui,  _ and well known, but they were never greedy. They took what they had and they were always kind. They helped others. They supported my sister and I in whatever we wanted to pursue, but they always taught us what was truly important.” He wrung his hands together, his stomach growing heavy.

 

“One night,” Laf continued, “we were walking out of a restaurant, just the four of us. A man who my father had refused a job to years earlier because of anger issues and a bad history came around the corner and confronted us.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “He shot both of my parents, in the middle of the street, in front of me and my sister and a hundred other pedestrians. He was arrested, and tried, but it did not matter. They both died.”

 

Laf reached out and felt Herc squeeze his hand. “Laf,” Herc whispered, “I’m so sorry.” Laf looked at him.

 

“The reason I tell you not to be sorry for what happened last night,” Laf said to him, “is because I remember how it feels. I had nightmares every night after they died, and they only worsened after Adrienne died as well. And after she was gone, I was alone.” He locked eyes with Herc. “I am glad I was here, to help you, because the worst feeling in the world is that of being alone.” 

 

Herc nodded, an unreadable expression crossing his face. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes reading deep into Laf’s, “yeah, it is.” They were silent for a moment.

 

“Oh, fuck it,” Herc whispered suddenly, and he leaned forward and kissed Laf on the mouth.

 

Laf let out a noise of surprise, then surged forward to kiss him back, bringing a hand to the back of Herc’s neck to pull him closer. Herc sighed, angling their heads together, and Laf pulled him even closer, pouring into the kiss every flutter of pent-up emotion he’d bottled away for the past month and a half, until they broke apart, both a little short of breath. Laf met Herc’s eyes, fireworks exploding in his chest, and they stared at each other for a moment before both collapsing into fits of laughter, falling on top of each other. Laf looked at him, smiling, his cheeks warm.

 

“How long?” he asked, and Herc blushed, his face falling into his hands.

 

“God,” he replied, “a long time. Almost since the day we met, I think.” Laf let out an indignant noise, and Herc looked at him with alarm. 

 

“You mean,” Laf said, baffled, “we could have been doing  _ that  _ this whole time?” Herc’s eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across his face. He leaned closer, framing Laf’s face in his hands.

 

“Well,” he shrugged, his voice low, “guess we better start making up for lost time.” Laf smiled and met him halfway, the second kiss better than the first.

  
(They didn’t get on the road until closer to noon.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. Are you happy now?
> 
> Chapter four will either be an epilogue, or just the last chapter and then chapter five will be an epilogue/bonus chapter! But we'll see.
> 
> Kudos/comments are welcome and appreciated!!
> 
> tumblr: starpuffin


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of the summer, and the beginning of everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAM THAT WAS FAST. Chapter Four - yay!!!!!
> 
> I've got my little bonus chapter written and am debating whether to post it now and hit y'all with a double whammy, or wait until tomorrow. ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

After a cloudy start to the morning, the sun came out as Herc drove them out of Portland. He smiled, opening the windows a crack and letting the warm July air into the car. He looked over at Laf in the passenger seat, who just smiled, lacing their fingers together over the console. Herc grinned sheepishly, and they stayed that way all the way back home.

 

Walking into the apartment was a relief, and Herc exhaled happily, walking down the hall towards their rooms. He and Laf stopped, staring for a minute at the door of Herc’s room. Herc looked down at their hands, still joined, then back at the door, then at Laf. 

 

Laf shrugged, pulling Herc by the arm into his own room. “I do not think we will be using that space anymore,” he said nonchalantly, dropping his bag on the floor. Herc burst out laughing, tugging Laf in by the arm and kissing him. Laf sighed, winding his arms around Herc’s neck as he pulled them towards the bed, tugging Herc down. 

 

He laughed, breaking away a little. “Don’t we need to unload the car?” he whispered, and Laf shook his head, their noses bumping together.

 

“Later,” he murmured, leaning forward to press another kiss to the corner of Herc’s mouth. Herc just smiled, falling backward and letting other thoughts fall away. 

 

July faded into August, and Herc watched as the coffee shop came together more and more every day. He and Laf worked together almost every day, spending afternoons painting and installing appliances. They hired ten employees, and Herc spent an afternoon training them, showing them how to operate the coffee machines and putting them to work installing menu boards and doing touch-ups on the paint. Laf wandered out of the kitchen as they worked, covered up to his elbows in flour. He smiled as Herc pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, leaning on his shoulder as he surveyed the place.

 

“How’s the new oven?” Herc asked him, and Laf sighed happily.

 

“Wonderful! It is very fast. In fact,” he checked his watch, “I should have a batch coming out right now.” Herc’s phone pinged as Laf walked back into the kitchen, and he pulled it out.

 

**John Laurens: dude, that’s great!**

 

**John Laurens: I’m rlly happy for you. seriously.**

 

**Herc Mulligan: thanks :)**

 

**Herc Mulligan: i’m really, really happy**

 

**John Laurens: bc you’re in love with laaaaaf**

 

**Herc Mulligan: ….**

 

**Herc Mulligan: yeah. yeah i am**

 

**John Laurens: so i finish my last class in december**

 

**John Laurens: and i need to get the hell out of nyc and away from my stupid dad**

 

**John Laurens: are you sure the offer still stands? I feel bad.**

 

**Herc Mulligan: nonsense, dude. Nuestro casa es su casa**

 

**Herc Mulligan: in other words, i live there too and i say its ok**

 

**Herc Mulligan: plus Laf is super excited to meet you**

 

**John Laurens: thanks, Herc. really.**

 

**Herc Mulligan: you’re welcome. Really.**

 

**Herc Mulligan: text you later? These dweebs i hired are struggling with menu boards.**

 

**John Laurens: lmao later dude**

 

Herc stuffed his phone back in his pocket and walked over to help a small girl with wild black curls who was struggling to put the board up on the wall. She smiled gratefully. “Thanks. Sorry about that, I’m not exactly known for my physical strength.” Herc laughed.

 

“You’re good, you’re good.” He scrutinized her. “Remind me of your name again? It’s been a long day,” he explained sheepishly.

 

“Betsy Ross,” she introduced herself proudly. “And you’re Hercules,” she said slowly, pointing to him, “and that’s Lafayette,” she finished, pointing to the kitchen. Herc nodded.

 

“Bam,” he affirmed. “You got it.” She grinned.

 

“This place is pretty cool! I’m excited for it to open,” she mused, looking around. Herc nodded proudly, surveying the place.

 

“Yeah, it’s been a dream of mine for a while. Finally moved up here at the beginning of the summer to make it a reality.” Betsy smiled.

 

“You and Lafayette?” She asked. Herc shook his head.

 

“Oh gosh, no. We actually met the day I got off the train here.” Her eyes widened.

 

“Wow. Sorry. I kind of assumed. You guys act like you’ve been together for years.” Herc grinned, watching Laf dance around the kitchen through the window on the door.

 

“Yeah, that’s kind of how it feels.”

 

Xxx

 

Laf wandered out of the hallway into the living room where Herc lay on the couch with his phone and promptly flopped on top of him. Herc wheezed, surprised.

 

“Jesus, Laf, give me some warning.” Laf laughed a little, adjusting himself so he was more in between Herc and the back of the couch, his head on Herc’s shoulder.

 

“Sorry,  _ mon cherie.  _ Long day.” Herc smiled at his phone.

 

“Hey, so John’s definitely going to move up here in December and take the spare room,” he told Laf, who grinned broadly. 

“That is fantastic! I’m glad he’s coming. I’m excited to meet him.” Herc nodded. 

 

“He’s happy too. He’s heard good things about this place.” Laf hummed, snuggling closer.

 

“That’s good.” Herc wrapped an arm around him, and they laid there in comfortable silence as the sun set over the ocean.

 

The coffee shop opened in the middle of August, on a warm, hectic beach day. Tourists and locals alike wandered in and filled the tables and barstools, ordering iced coffees and muffins and everything in between. Herc and Laf were both busier than they’d been all summer, barely seeing each other all day. Leaving it to the new workers around four in the afternoon, Laf stepped outside, his apron hanging in the kitchen, looking around for Herc. 

 

**Just Lafayette: where are you?**

 

**Herc Mulligan: docks**

 

**Herc Mulligan: the long pier that no one knows about :)**

 

Laf smiled at his phone. They had discovered the long pier a few weeks earlier, after a particularly frazzling day involving appliances and wiring. It was on a secluded stretch of beach, free of tourists, and had the best ocean view in town. They’d stayed for hours. Laf smiled fondly at the memory and set off to make his way there. 

 

Herc was sitting on the end of the pier, his feet dangling over the water, watching the sun glitter on the waves. The sky was a rich blue. He turned at the sound of Laf’s footsteps, smiling and beckoning with an arm. Laf sat down beside him, leaving his sandals on the dock and letting his toes skim over the water.

 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked Herc, who hummed happily.

 

“I never thought,” he said, “in any of my daydreams about opening this place, that my life would have turned out this way.” He looked down and took Laf’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’m so happy,” he said quietly, his voice sounding like it might break, and Laf felt himself tearing up just a little. He leaned in and kissed Herc slowly; not anything spectacular by the standards of other kisses, but somehow still breathtaking. He leaned his head on Herc’s shoulder, letting the warm sun wash over both of them.

 

“I know the feeling,” he said. Laf looked down at their joined hands, and had never felt more joy. “I love you,” he whispered, and Herc squeezed his hand, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

 

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos/comments if you liked it!! Thanks for reading!!
> 
> tumblr: starpuffin


	5. bonus: john

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in december, john steps off the train in a tiny ocean town in maine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand i got impatient. so here's the epilogue, and thus the conclusion of the first multi-chapter fic i've ever actually finished!
> 
> i really hope y'all liked this! it was so fun for me to revisit herc and laf and imagine how they met. (for those of you that read this as a standalone and are confused, go read the first fic in this series. it explains a lot.)
> 
> enjoy!

John Laurens pulled his coat tighter around him, stepping off the train and gazing around the station. Herc had warned him that Maine was cold in the winter, but this made New York City seem like the Bahamas. He sorely wished his hat wasn’t stuffed in the bottom of his bag.  _ Nice going, genius.  _ He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Herc.

 

**John Laurens: train is here. Just got off. Gonna find my stuff?**

 

**Herc Mulligan: awesome!!**

 

**Herc Mulligan: wait on finding your stuff until we get there, though. The baggage area at the station is confusing as fuck.**

 

**Herc Mulligan: i’m pretty sure Laf is the only one who really knows how to navigate it properly.**

 

**John Laurens: hurry up, then. I’m freezin.**

 

**Herc Mulligan: welcome to maine in december, dude.**

 

**John Laurens: this is your first winter here too stfu**

 

**Herc Mulligan: we’re walking. See you in two mins**

 

John paced around the platform a little, blowing on his hands to warm them up, and then noticed a few snowflakes falling from the slate-gray sky. “Perfect,” he muttered, as the snow began to swirl around him, catching in his curly hair. He looked up the block, down the main street of the tiny town, and then he spotted Herc. 

 

He was walking hand in hand with a tall, curly haired man who had to be Laf, his ears tucked under a floppy winter hat. Herc was a little broader around his shoulders, his complexion a little warmer-looking from a summer in the sun, but what John really noticed was how  _ happy  _ he looked. He laughed at something Laf told him, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek.

 

_ He really is in love,  _ John thought as he watched, and he smiled. He looked out at the ocean. Maybe there really was something magical about this place, he mused.

 

He stared out at the choppy waves and prayed to whatever god was out there that there was someone for him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there ya have it!! thanks for reading!
> 
> sooner rather than later, now that summer is almost upon us, i'll definitely be continuing this series - we'll be revisiting Alex and John now. (spoiler alert: philip might be there ;) interested now?)
> 
> kudos if you liked it? comments if you loved it (or hated it)? 
> 
> as always, my tumblr: stevetrevvors

**Author's Note:**

> So, there's chapter one! Again, I make a determined effort at writing a multi-chapter... we'll see how it goes.
> 
> Sparks are already flying, folks! *waggly eyebrows*
> 
> Kudos and feedback in the comments always appreciated! Thanks for reading!
> 
> tumblr: starpuffin (for more garbage!!)


End file.
